


Easy

by carriedawayfromhome



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 21:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carriedawayfromhome/pseuds/carriedawayfromhome
Summary: You make it seem so easy.





	Easy

Calum’s eyes wearily dart between the rapidly passing buildings, the different coloured lights illuminating his face as he watches on, his eyes wanting nothing more than too close and let his dreams transport him away. He forces his eyes to stay open, just a little longer until they get to the hotel, just a little longer until he can rest his head and pass out, until tomorrow when he has to do it all again. He has just finished another show, third one this week and it was only Wednesday, he could still feel the bass sound echoing in his bones, the roar of the crowd still ringing in his ears. He sighs quietly, looking over to where you are sitting next to him, looking out the other window as the buildings fly by. Calum watches for a moment, he observes the way the lights from outside illuminate your face, how they seem to dance off your eyes, your fingers leaning against your cheek.

Calum’s hand is resting in yours, thumb grazing the skin there, occasionally squeezing just to assure himself you are still there with him. Calum feels himself fading, his muscles and bones aching for him to lie down and rest. You turn to him when you feel him squeeze your hand once more, the lights from outside the taxi highlighting his fatigued eyes. 

“Almost there.” You whisper to him and without looking you see him smile and squeeze your hand again, his forehead resting against the window. You anxiously watch him try to find stability against the window, eyes opening every time they hit a pothole, making the car bounce. He looks spent, really though overworked is what he looks like and it breaks your heart every night after a show when he walks off stage, the energy he has left in him already gone a half hour ago, his shoulders slumping as he walks towards you, falling into your arms.

You never knew how he did it, interviews and promos during the day and another show at night and the thought of it makes your head swim. He always powered through it, even on these nights when his legs could barely hold his weight as he walked, he made it seem so easy. The late nights and early mornings, the constant speculation from everyone around you as to who you’re with, what you eat in the morning and god forbid how you take your coffee.

Calum always passed it off as part of the job, part of the contract he signed up for, wait scratch that part of the life he signed up for. He liked to joke that it was the cherry on top of his sundae, saving the best bit for last, but he would always falter at that, his smile lingering a little longer then it needed to be, you would change the subject quickly and relief would wash over you as his eyebrows would relax and he would then start his usual spiel on whatever he had on his mind at the time. Sometimes late at night when you were both cuddling in bed and he would be humming to himself, the melody getting lost in your skin, you would think about how lucky you are to have this amazing man and how much you hate cherries.

The taxi pulls up to the hotel and you undo your seatbelt, Calum’s hand still resting in yours, you go to exit from your side when a tug pulls you back and you turn to find Calum very hesitantly watching outside the window and you follow his tired eyes to see about ten or so fans waiting for him outside the lobby, eager smiles and pens in hand.

“Dammit,” He mumbles, hand going up to rub his temples, “Not tonight.”

Calum hates disappointing people, friends, family, coworkers, but especially fans. He says it all the time as if trying to prove that he really does care even though everyone around him knows he would go above and beyond for his fans. But as you watch him unbuckle and grab his stuff your heart aches for him, he has no energy to even pretend to be enthusiastic or do as Michael always does, plaster a huge smile and muster up the tiniest bit of energy he can so that he can talk to the fans for awhile and for that generally Calum is always grateful when Michael is around.

So as you both hope of the taxi, bags in hand as well as each others, you walk together towards the entrance, Calum’s hand squeezing almost painfully hard onto yours.

“Cal,” You whisper, gaining his attention, “I’ll do the talking and you just smile and take some photos okay? I’ll make sure it’s quick.”

Calum nods, walking up the few steps to the entrance where a few squeals are heard as you two walk towards the group.

“Hey everyone,” You pipe up, most of them not even looking your way though, “Calum here has just gotten off stage, so we can’t stay for long, but we can take some photos, sound good?”

You receive a few nods, though not entirely sure if everyone even heard what you said, but you let go of Calum’s tight grip to step back and let him take photos and mumbling yes’s and no’s to questions being thrown his way. You pipe up when necessary and even helping to take some photos with the fans, you keep an eye on your watch though, making sure that everyone gets a moment with your boyfriend and gets to take a photo, but not too long that Calum passes out from exhaustion.

After about fifteen minutes you feel sufficient that everyone has had their moment and even though you know this may break some hearts you have to break the chain and drag your boyfriend to the hotel room. A few unfortunate noises and hugs later you’re finally free to hold Calum to you, his arm over your shoulder as you both walk steadily to the room.

Once inside you let Calum stand on his own to which he immediately walks a couple of steps and flops straight on the bed, the bed frame making a deep thudding noise. You smile at him and walk over to the bed grabbing at his shoes to take them off one by one, then leaning up to unbuckle his jeans and peel them off, dropping them to the floor beside the bed.

Calum lets you undress him, eyes closed the entire time and once he’s in nothing but his boxers you manoeuvre the covers around him so you can tuck him in, breathing out a long awaited sigh before you get up to undress yourself.

“Hey,” He whispers as you start to take your top off, “Come back.”

“Just getting ready for bed, I’ll be with you in a second.” You take off your clothes heavily, just now you start to feel your own muscles ache and pull as you undress, your eyes feeling heavy as

well. You throw on an old band t-shirt that has been reserved now as a sleep shirt and climb onto the bed, Calum’s tired eyes watching you wiggle under the covers, cocooning yourself into the bed.

Calum’s arms come to wrap around you, pulling you in as close as you can get, his chin resting on top of your head. You listen as his own heartbeat slows to resting rate, yours following suit.

“You make me feel so safe,” Calum whispers into the room, reaching over you to turn off the lamp, enveloping the room into darkness, “Thank you for taking care of me you make it seem so easy.”

“It is easy Calum,” You feel his lips on your forehead, “Very easy to love you.”


End file.
